Curses and Regrets
by Schlitz-Kehle
Summary: Little America wakes up one night to the sounds of England cursing and soon the cursing turns into tears. Alfred, being the concerned little colony he could be, decides to go comfort the older nation. From there, Arthur explains what regret is.


Little Alfred F. Jones awoke in his tiny bed to the sound of his beloved guardian, Arthur Kirkland, cursing. Blushing like a brand at the naughty and foul word, he covered his ears in case there were more.

And he was correct.

Outside his ears, he heard England's voice growl out a bunch more curses that the little blond-haired colony shouldn't even be hearing at his youthful age. Giving a muffled squeak, he screwed his eyes shut and rolled himself into a ball in the sheets. He tried to ignore the string of curses by thinking back to the last time his great big brother swore.

_England was walking barefoot across the sand of the beach with America clinging onto his back, his small legs wrapped around his torso. America's glasses were too big for his face, making his baby blue eyes large in comparison as well._

"_Mr. Britain, is the water gonna be deep? Are there gonna be fishes? Is the water gonna be okay to drink? Is it gonna be too cold or too hot? Are there gonna be sharks? Are there whales that eat people?" Alfred squeaked, clinging all the more to his guardian. "...Ones that eat children...?" He whispered._

_Arthur chuckled and shook his head a bit, about to answer back, when his emerald eyes widened and he came to a sudden stop. America felt England's muscles tense up and heard him take in a sharp breath through his teeth._

_America, getting worried, pat his shoulder with a small pudgy hand._

"_...Britain?"_

_For a while, England didn't reply._

"_...I'm fine, little chap." Arthur took another step and stopped again, wincing. America raised his eyebrows as England gently set him down. "...or not." _

"_Oh no, Britain! Don't die!" Alfred's eyes filled with tears._

_Arthur couldn't help but smirk slightly at his little brother's concern. He took a seat on the sand and began to examine the bottom of his right foot._

"_I'm not going to die, boy. I think I just stepped on a shard of glass is all."_

_Alfred began to calm down until he saw blood rise up from the penetration in England's foot. Big brother was correct. And it was deep, too. Arthur reached downward to pull it out but even the smallest of contact made him hiss through his teeth._

"_Britain!"_

"_I'm alright, boy! Settle down!" Arthur sighed, taking a deep breath as he tried again. He yelped and grit his teeth, flinging his hand away from the wound as if it had suddenly caught on fire._

"_God, Damn it!"_

_America gasped and his eyes widened. He got an odd chill up his spine and looked away, shock written all over his features. _

_England realized the curse he allowed to slip out and gasped as well, his thick eyebrows raising._

"_America! I'm sorry!"_

America stopped thinking about the memory when he heard England's curses die down into small sobs. Getting up from his bed with a pout, he stepped off and walked out the door. It was a natural instinct to him to see if his big brother was alright in times like this.

Though, this was the second time he saw him cry. The first had been when England thought America was choosing France as his guardian.

As he walked down the halls, he heard Arthur's sobs grow. Gasping quietly, he willed himself to walk faster, turning the corner to see England's room at the end of the hall from there, the oak door left open ajar. Tiptoeing now, Alfred crept up to the door, looking through the crack. England stood in front of the window with his arms crossed over his chest, his head bowed. America couldn't see his face from where he stood, but wanted so much to help England stop crying. So, he lightly knocked on the door.

"Mr. Britain? I... I had a nightmare..." He fibbed.

England flinched and quickly wiped his eyes, putting a smile on his face.

"That's alright, America. Come on in."

Alfred slowly opened the door and stepped into the room, walking up to his tall guardian and hugging his leg tightly. England chuckled a bit and lifted the precious colony up into his arms, gently soothing him by rubbing his back up and down.

"It's alright, Alfred... None of those monsters exist..."

Alfred clung to his shoulders, burrowing his head into England's chest as childish guilt washed over him.

"...Britain... I lied... I didn't have a nightmare..."

England raised an eyebrow and his hand froze on the middle of America's back, looking down at him.

"Then... What is it? You couldn't sleep?"

America slowly shook his head and dared himself to look up into his guardian's emerald green eyes.

"I...I heard you swear and begin to cry and I wanted to see what was wrong..." He whimpered, his eyes beginning to fill with tears.

England looked away with a sigh and focused his eyes out the window.

"Love... You're not old enough to understand..."

America pouted and gently smacked a small hand against England's cheek, trying to get his attention, feeling the stubble that had settled there.

"Yes I am! Please! I wanna help you be happy!"

Arthur couldn't help but laugh and looked back at his little brother, rubbing his head and messing up his blond hair.

"Alfred, have you ever felt guilt or regret?" He whispered lightly.

Alfred raised an eyebrow and looked into England's eyes.

"Britain, What's regret?"

With a sigh, Arthur took a seat on the chair in front of the window with Alfred seated on his lap.

"Regret is when you wish you can take something back or when you wish you hadn't done anything in the first place."

Alfred gasped and whimpered a bit, his large blue eyes widening.

"Am I a regret?"

England quickly shook his head and gave Alfred a reassuring hug, resting his head on top of his.

"No! You aren't! Don't you dare think for a second that you are a regret to me! You will never be a regret!"

America nodded and calmed down.

"I felt guilt but I never felt regwet before."

England chuckled, kissing the side of his little colony's head.

"'Regret'." He corrected.

"Is that why you cursed and cried? You regretted something?"

Arthur let out one of his sighs again and looked out the window once more.

"Yes, America. That's exactly why."

Curiosity took America over and he looked up at England's face.

"What is it that you regretted...?"

England had to wipe at his eyes again and smiled, meeting Alfred's baby blue eyed gaze.

"Nothing serious, darling. Besides, I'm feeling much better now that you're here to make me smile."

America, feeling a bit of pride in himself, hugged Arthur tightly.

"Yes! That's what I'm here for, Britain! You keep all the monsters away, so in exchange I can keep your tears away! That's a promise!"

"Yes, yes, it is!" England laughed, pulling him close to him in a brotherly manner, cuddling with a smiling America. England hummed to him and America's eyes closed slowly as drowsiness swept over him. Every time he heard England sing or hum to him, he always found it easy to sleep.

As America began to drift off, caught in the warmth of England's chest and the deep vibrations coming from within it, he heard him whisper a few things before he entered sleep.

"_Let's just hope... you won't do anything you'd regret..._"

~-{=O=}-~

"I-I can't do it!" England threw the rifle he was holding onto the muddy ground and fell to his knees in front of America, who stared down at him in pity with those once seemingly innocent blue eyes. "I can't shoot you!"

England cupped his face in his hands and began to sob, his messy blond locks hanging over his face as rain drops dripped off the ends.

"Why! God damn it! Why!" England whimpered.

America felt an unfamiliar feeling within his chest, looking down upon his former brother. He blinked, keeping his eyes closed for a while before he opened them up again. America felt overwhelming guilt within him and turned away from England. He had broken his childhood promise by making Britain cry, and shattered England's wishes of him not feeling this horrible feeling.

"England... You used to be... So great..." He said clearly, desperately trying to hide it. But England managed to hear a single emotion in his voice. With a small smirk nobody can see, he whispered,"...Regret."

**...My first Hetalia story. T^T Please don't flame this at all if I didn't get the facts right, I'm still kind of in the process of watching the series. So, I hope you liked it. ^^;**


End file.
